That Perfect Child
by Nyssa Lovelace
Summary: It was another day for Ludwig Beilschmidt. Another day in which Germany won and Ludwig lost, forever the loser in his internal game of tug of war. Pairing (s): LudwigxAmelia (Fem!America)
1. Hauntingly Beautiful Memories

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters in this story.**

**So this is another one-shot, possibly chapter story if the public likes it (*wink*). I love Germany's character, and there is so much more to him than just a strict disciplinary. **

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"Vati," a voice called. It was squeaky but firm, somewhere between that of a boy that has not yet reached puberty and a man that had a chillingly soft voice. This voice was neither a comfort nor a torment to Ludwig Beilschmidt, but it issued a compressing cold upon him.

"Ludwig," another voice, this one sweet like honey and soothing, called to him. He blinked twice, turning his head this way and that in search of the person the voice belonged to.

To his delight, a smiling pair of crystal blue eyes appeared to his right, framed by long ash blonde locks that were swaying curiously, almost as if it were windy. But Ludwig did not feel any wind. Why then, was the beautiful woman's – no, his beautiful wife's – hair fluttering around her little round face?

He made to move towards her, but that chilling voice stopped him, "Mutti!" He watched as a blonde-haired, blue-eyed child – such a perfect child – ran towards the woman. He saw the woman – his wife – embrace the child. And that child was his son – their son. The very thought squeezed without restriction at his heart.

How he wanted to run to the two of them. To embrace them, tell them how much he loved the two of them. How wonderful they made him feel and how happy they were going to be. They would be together – together forever – he'd tell them this. But – no, that would be a horrendous lie. He could not offer them forever.

He could not offer them even an hour.

Not any longer.

The two stared at him, both smiling widely, the woman gesturing for him to come to them. And the perfect child – oh, how perfect he was – started to frown as Ludwig continued to stare. "Vati," he called again, this time less enthusiastically than the last. The frown was something Ludwig had never wanted to see upon this perfect child's face. Against the voice telling him to stand firmly where he was, he took a step forward towards the woman and child.

And then the woman – his wife – screamed. The perfect child was in her arms. She was crying unashamedly, her hair wild and uncombed, eyes bloodshot from all the crying and several late nights. And Ludwig realized then what he had been trying to forget.

The perfect child was dead. His wife was crying because their perfect child was dead.

And it was his fault. He had told himself so many times – so very many times.

If only he'd been stronger.

The blame lied with him.

He desperately reached for the two, hoping that if he could hold them, then maybe the perfect child would be alive again and they could be happy together. And he would never wish to wake up again. But it was not to be. The woman with their dead child – that perfect child – suddenly disappeared along with the child. Ludwig realized, with regret, that he was no longer asleep when he opened his eyes to see the grinning face of his older brother smiling down at him. His instinct was to shout at the older man, but with what had just occurred in his sleep, he decided that he did not have the energy to do so.

"The awesome me managed to wake up before you today, bruder!" The proud Prussian declared loudly. Ludwig thought to himself that he would not be surprised if Switzerland was currently dialing his phone number to complain.

With a bedroom voice, sleepy and not yet fully intelligible, he replied, "You did not even go to sleep, bruder."

The Prussian's grin fell, "How do you know that, West?"

"I need to dress myself," Ludwig calmly stated, ignoring the question. It was obvious the man had not slept, seeing as he was currently wearing an un-buttoned shirt that was not his and had numerous lipstick marks on his face. He decided that he would "forget" to mention this to his headache-inducing brother. "I'll be done in a moment."

Gilbert stared at Ludwig, wondering why the younger man had yet to burst into one of his endless rants about Gilbert needing to act his age. Did he not see he was wearing someone else's shirt and had lipstick from several girls – girls whose names he didn't know – all over his face? He had purposely not corrected these flaws in his appearance to see the reaction of his dear little brother. His reactions were comedy gold.

Raising an eyebrow, Ludwig calmly pointed towards the door, addressing Gilbert once again, "I would prefer you leave while I dress, bruder."

Snapping out of the momentary puzzlement, Gilbert grinned again, chuckling at Ludwig, "You are embarrassed for the awesome me to see you naked? Don't worry, West, the awesome me will not judge you for your parts that are not as awesome as mine!" It was at this point that the Prussian was shoved out of the room by a now disgruntled Germany.

"This is so not awesome, West," were the last words from Gilbert before the door was abruptly slammed in his face.

With a sigh of relief that his brother was now out of the room, Germany headed to his closet to pick out a suitable outfit for the day, which for him usually meant a plain-colored button-up paired with nice brown or black slacks, a belt, a black blazer, and black dress shoes. Or his military outfit, if he was feeling particularly patriotic.

Today, however, he picked out a gray-striped t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. Taking the clothing, he laid it out on the bed to put on after he had finished his morning bathroom routine.

It never took him longer than three minutes. He would enter the bathroom, close the door quietly behind himself out of habit, wash his face, rinse, dry, then brush his teeth, rinse, and lastly comb his hair, which required the use of quite a bit of gel, although he would never admit this. Turning off the light of the bathroom as he was walking out, he checked his watch. 8:33. He'd gone in at 8:30, meaning it took him exactly three minutes, per usual.

He quickly dressed himself, and then proceeded to check that he did not have the look of someone who had just seen a ghost, which is what his dream had made him feel like. There were indeed some noticeable bags underneath his eyes, but he could chalk that up to working late into the nights. When he looked at his eyes, however, he saw the look of a haunted man staring back at him. _A haunted man_; he mulled this phrase over. Perhaps that was what he was, a man haunted by his past.

And so is she, he thought. The wife in his dreams was definitely haunted as well. He was not alone with that feeling. She, who had laughed the loudest, loved the fiercest, and fallen the quickest, was, as far as Ludwig was concerned, the one and only love of his life. He doubted she felt the same way, maybe at one point in time, but not anymore. Not after their perfect life together was shattered.

He often thought of her; blue eyes that were constantly searching his, blonde hair swirling in all directions as a strong wind came through, the musical laugh that he could still hear reverberating through the walls of his home, and that smile that sent heat rising up his body. These thoughts – memories – were Ludwig's, not Germany's. As Germany, he was not supposed to think of her, he told himself this constantly. But Ludwig loved her so, and Germany was Ludwig, really, so why could Germany not love her too?

It was a constant internal war he had with himself. And he'd been dealing with it since the day she stormed into his life, just as abruptly as she'd left. She always said that she'd been the one to fall in love first and Ludwig was content to let her believe this, but secretly, he knew, it was he who was the first to fall head over heels for the most irritating woman in the world.

He wanted to see her, desperately. But Germany would not let him, for Germany had a duty to his people and Ludwig, compared to those people, was not important. The things Ludwig wanted were secondary to the things he needed to do for his people.

So he pushed her to the back of his mind – but this never works in the end – and opened the door of the bedroom to find his delinquent of a brother berating him for kicking his 'awesome' self out of the room. It was another day for Ludwig Beilschmidt. Another day in which Germany won and Ludwig lost, forever the loser in his internal game of tug of war.

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**So I see it as all countries have this whole I'm me, but I'm also the personification of a nation, meaning what is best for the people comes before anything for myself. Of course this includes love. It is actually rather sad if you think about it in that context. They already have to watch millions of humans die while they live on, and added to that, they aren't even allowed to truly experience life as we know it. **

**Kudos to whoever guesses who the girl (wife) that Ludwig loves is (And the perfect child).**

**Hope you enjoyed the story! **


	2. Hello, Chancellor

**And here is the continuation (I've decided to make it a chapter fic). This is set in the past, telling the story that led up to the previous chapter. Enjoy!**

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**30 January 1933**

Hitler was appointed Chancellor of Germany by President Paul von Hindenburg, effectively giving most of the governmental power to the Nazis. Ludwig did not know what to think of this. Communism, Fascism, Democracy – what category did this new group that had seized power fall into? There were mixed reactions among his people. Some thought this new group – the Nazis – were going to be the saviors of their nation, while others viewed it more pessimistically as just another political group that would bring with it ups and downs to the people. Ludwig, however, felt that this group would bring about something more than just ups and downs or prosperity. Something big was changing within his land, made obvious by the child that grew in Amelia's abdomen.

Beautiful blonde, blue-eyed Amelia; she and her brother, Alfred, had been fast friends with Ludwig since his beginning (they looked up to his brother). And then the First World War had come along, during which Germany – not Ludwig – betrayed his friends and dragged them into a war that they did not belong in. Germany lost the war; betrayed by his own allies and all but abandoned by those he called friends. But then Alfred, bright-eyed and cheerful, had waltzed in with promises of help. Amelia came too, forcing herself upon him until he was 'back on his feet', because Alfred – no, The United States of America – had to go back to look after his own country.

Then the stock market crashed, devastating the world, but Germany most of all. It was no one's fault. Ludwig did not blame Alfred and constantly said so in his letters to the young man, because Alfred's letters always contained the words 'I'm sorry' these days. But Germany, he was angry at The United States and everyone else that he felt put him in this predicament. He needed someone to help his people, to bring them out of this misery that their lives had become. Since the end of World War I, even with the help Alfred had tried to give him, Ludwig felt himself slipping more and more into the darkness. In that darkness something was growing – an obscure shadow of himself that threatened to destroy him.

Through it all, the encroaching darkness and continuous downwards spiral of his nation, Amelia had been by his side. She was frustrating, she had always been frustrating. It was her who insisted on Ludwig 'making the most of a bad situation', as she put it. He knew she too had not been exactly well after the stock market crash, not so much as her brother (whom she wrote every day), but still she continued to act well. That was frustrating. Why did she hide the pain behind smiles? How could she? This was the part of Amelia he found so very maddening and enchanting.

He didn't know exactly when he fell in love with her, the ever-smiling American. Was it when she stayed after he had told her to leave? Or when she refused to give up on him once he'd resigned himself to the darkness? Maybe it was always there, like a bud waiting for spring to come. He could remember being jealous of his brother for having met her first, thinking that the young woman had a crush on the red-eyed man. At the time, however, he had not seen it as jealousy. She was his friend, he had proclaimed to himself, and he was only concerned for her would-be broken heart due to his Casanova of a brother.

How much he had deceived himself.

"Ludwig!" Amelia's voice called for him from a distance (she was probably in the bedroom), forced and short, as if she was having trouble breathing. He quickly turned on his heel, away from the window and out of his study, the room in which he brooded. Again, she called, "Ludwig!" He thought to yell back and say that he was on his way, but was nearly to her already and becoming increasingly worried, making it difficult to form thoughts, much less words.

As he rounded the oak doorframe, she came into view. She was lying on the bed; hair matted to the sides of her face from sweat, hand clutching her bulging belly, and breathing heavily. It was not surprising to see her in bed. The doctor had put her on bed rest two weeks ago, and Ludwig had saw to it himself that she followed his orders. But her disheveled look and heavy breathing told him very clearly that it was time. He was not sure that he was ready.

Her blue eyes caught his as she reopened them, having previously had them clenched tight due to pain. "Ludwig, the baby," she started to ask for him to call a doctor when another contraction hit her. She had been by the bedside of enough of her citizens to know what happened when labor set in.

Ludwig understood her, though, and quickly took off. She could hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs as he ran down them and the opening and shutting of the front door. He had slammed it, something he would probably lament about later. She chuckled to herself at this thought despite the pain emanating from her abdomen. Looking at the large bump that had formed over her midsection, she had to wonder if she was going to be giving birth to a giant. Ludwig had reassured her that this was normal size, but nothing seemed normal when you were pregnant.

She lay, thinking of the moment when she had first learned she was pregnant, when she had told Ludwig, and then his brother (Gilbert) found out, then he telephoned Alfred who told Matthew and Madeleine, Maria and Juan (who swore up and down that he was going to 'kill' Ludwig) were next to find out thanks to Alfred's slip of the tongue. They had all quickly decided to keep it between themselves, however, for fear of how the world would react, especially their former caretakers.

Madeleine and Maria had both visited just a few months ago, told her of what was happening in their countries and her own. They'd laughed and smiled in that one week the two had spent with her and Ludwig more than she had in the last few years. She had not realized how much she missed them until that moment and now that feeling set in more than ever. Now she wanted them here, all of them; Alfred, Madeleine, Juan, Maria, and Matthew. They had all been through so much alone and together, hurting one another on numerous occasions.

The sound of the front door being jarred open harshly pulled her away from thoughts of those most dear to her and back to her current situation. She was in labor. Soon, she would be a mother. Now that was strange, Amelia Liberty Jones a mother. Then again, maybe she already was a mother. The states were sort of like children. But no, this was different. This child was hers and Ludwig's.

"Ow!" A sudden, sharp contraction caused her to whimper a bit, and clench her teeth tightly together. It was at this moment that Ludwig reentered the room, the doctor and Gilbert following close behind.

"Are you alright?" Ludwig asked this without thinking, and immediately thought it had been a stupid question considering she was in labor.

But Amelia smiled, nodding her head, "I'm okay."

"It appears we will have a baby today," the doctor pronounced to the room as he hobbled his way over to Amelia to check her vitals and current progress. It was something they all knew – that the baby would be born today – but having the doctor make this statement made it hit home.

Gilbert was finding it hard to contain the excitement that was surging inside him. He was going to an uncle. And awesome uncle he would be, the best uncle in the world in fact. He would have to make sure the child turned out less stuffy than Ludwig did. Of course, with Amelia as the mother, he probably wouldn't have to work too hard on that department. He could picture it now, him and his little nephew (or niece) running from a red-faced Ludwig after doing something mischievous. Maybe Alfred would get in on it too. He was Gilbert's protégé after all, and he, Gilbert, still had things to teach the relatively young nation.

It wasn't long before the doctor ushered Gilbert and Ludwig from the room, though Ludwig was asked back in shortly at the request of a screaming Amelia. Gilbert waited for at least two minutes before he headed downstairs to the kitchen. It took too long, having babies. He'd avoided this kind of stuff for centuries for that reason. His eyes searched the fridge for that wurst he'd hidden from Ludwig yesterday, the screams of Amelia interrupting him momentarily when they occurred.

Suddenly, Gilbert felt himself being shaken. He'd opened one droopy eyelid to see that the culprit that had awoken him from his much deserved rest (at least, according to him) was none other than the doctor. "I thought I should inform you that you may now go upstairs to see your nephew," he said this as he walked out the door, obviously too afraid to face the wrath of the red-eyed Prussian.

He was about to doze back off when the doctor's words suddenly connected with his brain. In an instant, he had jumped up and run towards the upstairs bedroom. The doctor had said that he could go see his nephew. Nephew! So it was a boy, a future member of the BTT. He'd have to tell – he stopped himself with that thought. He couldn't tell Francis and Antonio about the baby, not yet anyway. They were going to be jealous of his awesome nephew. He would make sure of that.

The sight of a nervous, awkward Ludwig made him want to burst with laughter, but he held it in for now. His little brother, the new father, looked to be having a difficult time holding the baby. He was holding him very gently, like a porcelain doll that might break if you tightened your grip at all. Amelia, he could see by the Cheshire-cat grin on her face, found the sight to be just as funny as he did. Now they had something new to pick on Ludwig about.

"How does it feel, vati?" Gilbert questioned, surprisingly not in a teasing tone. He was genuinely interested in how it felt, after all, for his younger brother to be a father, considering he'd never been one himself.

Ludwig looked up, unsurprised at Gilbert's presence. He'd heard the man's footsteps long before he'd reached the room. "Is this real?" The words had left his lips before he had time to stop them. He felt so much joy looking at his son, but so disoriented. It didn't feel real. How could he be a father? How was it possible that he had helped create this beautiful child? The overwhelming emotions he was feeling – he couldn't begin to describe them properly.

There was unconditional love in his son's eyes and he knew the first time he looked into those eyes that he would do anything for his son – no matter the cost. Already, holding him, he was thinking of all the things he wanted to teach him and show him, of what sort of man he would grow up to be, of the times when they would go fishing, swimming, or to a festival together. This was different from the love he felt for anyone else, even Amelia. He felt that the intensity of the love he felt for his son would not fade into something deeper and more meaningful like that between him and Amelia, but that it will instead stay white hot and get enriched with memories.

"Congratulations, vati," was Gilbert's delayed response. Ludwig noticed that he seemed to be fighting back tears. That did surprise him. He had never seen Gilbert cry, not truly, but it seemed he had finally found something to issue a deep emotional response.

And then, all too soon and out of the blue, Ludwig felt tears leaking from his own eyes. He was crying.

He was a father holding his first child, a son, and he was crying.

Amelia's hand was laid over his as she smiled at him, tears rolling down her cheeks too.

It was a beautiful day. Ludwig almost forgot what else had happened earlier today. But it was hanging around in his head, like a catchy tune. Did the appointment of Hitler as Chancellor have something to do with the birth of his son? What did his son represent exactly? It was unclear at the moment, but he felt that this child was connected to Hitler and the Nazi party in some way. For that reason, he decided, that party could not disappear. He could not let that happen.

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**Alright, so I know this differs from canon and many other head canons, but it is my wholehearted belief that Mexico, Canada, and America are all siblings (they share the same mother). Perhaps they don't personally know this, because they were so very little when separated. However, they are all still very close. **

**I dislike when people depict Mexico hating America or vice versa. Because, let's face the facts, these two were each other's first trading partner. The American Revolution inspired the Mexicans to revolt against the Spanish and win their independence. (Mexico's actually the second oldest sibling in my head canon, with Canada being the oldest and America the baby.) During WWI, the Zimmerman telegram did reach Mexico, and the Mexican government refused to go along with it (though it was more due to economic reasons than anything, but Juan and Maria, in my head canon, had a big say in this matter). When WWII came along, America called upon Mexico for aid in the Philippines (Mexico and Philippines had good relations already) and Mexico helped. The fact that the US called upon Mexico for help and that Mexico did help makes you all fuzzy inside, yeah? No? Maybe just me? This is just how I feel.**

**I chose to use Juan as Mexico's name because the name generally does have a nice sound to it when I say it aloud to myself and Maria for the female Mexico because I love this name, regardless of how commonplace it may be. And I used Madeleine for female Canada because I like the name (and you can call her Maddie for short, like Mattie for Matthew). **

**Tell me your thoughts so far!**


	3. False Flag

**27 February 1933**

Amelia rocked her baby boy in her arms, humming to the tune of 'Rock-a-bye Baby' in an attempt to calm him. He had cried on and off all day, her little Hans. That was what she and Ludwig had decided after a full week of debate. She had wanted to name him Theodore for Theodore Roosevelt, partly because he was one of her favorite presidents if not a bit frightening with his aggressiveness, but mostly so that she could call him Teddy for short. Ludwig had refused outright, which resulted in the two of them giving each other the 'cold shoulder' for nearly thirty minutes.

Gilbert had brokered an exchange between them through the use of sausage or 'wurst', as the two German brothers called it. So the three of them had sat down at the table three weeks ago now, Amelia holding the tiny unnamed baby in her arms, and decided upon a name for the child. Gilbert's only suggestion had been Gilbert II, which both Amelia and Ludwig rejected, causing the Prussian to huff and cross his arms over his chest. It had brought the two together, however, in deciding on a name, making Amelia suspect that it had been more of a plan of Gilbert's than a true suggestion. Then again, knowing Gilbert, it probably was what he wanted to name the baby.

Hans, Ludwig had suddenly suggested, issuing a raised eyebrow from Amelia. She associated the name Hans with Hans Christian Andersen, the author, and he was Danish, not German. But then Ludwig had explained the meaning of the name, God is gracious, which issued a smile from her. Once she mulled it over for a minute or two, Hans sounded adorable for a little boy. However, it was clearly German. And she was an American, no matter what. So, he also needed an American name, which was silly to say, really, because American names came from Europe and other parts of the world, not the United States.

It was not silly, however, Ludwig had calmly stated after she said so aloud unintentionally. He would be jealous too, he said, if the child had only an American name. And so they decided to also give him the name Derrick, which was German in origin, but sounded American, according to Amelia. Hans Derrick Belschmidt, her little 'Hansi' as she had already taken to calling him. Ludwig shook his head at the nickname, but Amelia was sure she could get him to use it too soon. If only he could have been like Gilbert, who took to the nickname immediately, then she wouldn't have to work so hard at gaining his acceptance of it.

Hans squirmed in her arms out of discomfort. This made Amelia frown, because she knew she was holding him properly, but wondered if it was just her that made him act so disgruntled. Maybe he didn't like her. She was sure all mothers had this thought at some point after giving birth – that their child, the one they had carried for nine months, did not like them. It was a terrifying thought. She didn't dare tell anyone, not even Madeleine or Maria. They wouldn't understand and would say things like, 'That isn't true', 'You're worrying too much', or 'He loves you, you're his mommy'. Those were not things Amelia wanted to hear. She had told them to herself so many times already.

It was quite late, she noticed, from gazing out the window to see the pitch blackness that now covered the sky. "Daddy will be home soon, Hansi," she spoke to the baby softly, not wanting to make him more upset. And she really did hope she was right in saying that Ludwig would be home soon. He had been at a meeting with the new Chancellor, Adolf Hitler, since early in the morning. Amelia didn't know much about the Chancellor, only that he had what she considered a 'funny' name and became Chancellor on the same day her baby was born. What that meant exactly, she wasn't sure. She had no idea what had occurred the day she was born, if anything at all. Maybe it didn't mean anything. It was a confusing matter, her having a baby. Was it normal for nations to have babies, she wondered. She didn't know who to ask and was too afraid to ask one of the older nations, like China or Greece; for fear that word would get around to others. It could be dangerous, Gilbert had warned. He, unfortunately, did not know about nations giving birth. All he could remember, he said, were nations suddenly popping up, not being born. But nations had to be born, Amelia believed, which meant they all had to have parents.

It was such a confusing matter. Looking into the face of her baby boy washed that confusion away though. It did not matter if it was normal or right; she had given birth to a beautiful baby and loved him dearly – nothing could ever change that.

"What's wrong, Hansi?" She asked the baby, knowing she wouldn't get a response from a baby that was not even a month old. He had started to cry again, this time louder. Big, salty tears were pouring from his dark blue eyes and his body suddenly felt a bit warmer than usually. Quickly, she removed his blanket, checking to see if he had anything noticeable signs of something being wrong physically. His chest was perfectly clear, no bumps or rash. But it was warm, just like the rest of his body.

The front door slammed open, followed shortly by Ludwig's yell, "Amelia!"

She turned, holding Hans closer to her chest than usual, now fearing that something was gravely wrong. "Ludwig, something's wrong with Hans," were her first words to the out-of-breath daddy as he came into view.

"The Reichstag is on fire!" Those had been Ludwig's first words at seeing Amelia, spoken only a second or two after hers. And then his eyes widened once her words registered in his brain. Something was wrong with Hans? Now, of all times, something was wrong with him. Why?

"What is it," he asked, taking long steps across the room to check the baby over for himself.

"I don't know. He's all warm and – did you say a building is on fire?"

"Yes," Ludwig nodded, feeling the little baby's skin for himself, "the Reichstag. It is where Parliament meets."

Amelia's eyes, much in a similar fashion to Ludwig's, widened at this new information. "This couldn't be what's causing Hans to be ill, could it?" Her hands shook slightly now, making Hans cry more at the sudden vibrations. If the building – the Reichstag – burned down, did that mean Hans died? No! She didn't even want to think that, but she had. It was a horrible thought and it would never be true – it couldn't be.

Noticing the shaking of Amelia's hands, Ludwig carefully removed the baby from her arms and into his own, giving her a soft smile as he did so. "Hans will be fine." He was lying, of course. "I do not believe the fire has anything to do with him." And another lie was added. "It is probably normal for babies to be warm at times. And they cry often – nothing to worry about." So many lies he was telling tonight. He wondered if Amelia could tell they were lies. Maybe; he had sounded more stiff than usual when speaking, he noticed. But if she did notice they were lies, Amelia did not show it. She simply nodded at his words, and sat down in a nearby armchair.

"Maybe it's me. He doesn't like me."

This was the first Ludwig was hearing of Amelia making such a statement. How could she possibly think Hans didn't like her? It was such an absurd statement. He wanted to tell her that, but there were tears in her eyes and he knew he could not write this declaration off as some trivial thought. "Why do you say that?"

She looked up at him with those crystal blue eyes swimming with tears now. "How could I not think that?" A pause here for her to take in a deep, shaky breathe. "He cries when I hold him, and it doesn't matter what I do to make him stop…he doesn't." A few sniffles could be heard now, with Amelia wiping profusely underneath her nose at the snot that was threatening to drip downwards. It was a nasty business really, crying. "Then you hold him and he doesn't cry at all."

Ludwig did not know what to say to this – he was trying to work it out though. But Amelia did not give him time to think of the perfect words to soothe her. She was always impatient.

"It's only me." She brought the sleeve of her sweater up to her face and started to wipe at some of the wet spots on her cheeks and chin. "Why doesn't he love me?" Her face did not lift to look up at Ludwig; instead, she faced the floor, staring at the beige carpet.

"Amelia," Ludwig sighed, preparing for the long semi-speech he was about to deliver, "You are Hans' mutter. He lived inside of you." He knelt to his knees, taking care not to cause discomfort to Hans as he did, and placed a hand over Amelia's belly. "The two of you share a connection, one that he will never have with anyone else. Because of that, he reacts to your feelings." Amelia stared down at Ludwig, her fingers raking through his hair. It was always so neat, until she got her hands on it (_Literally_).

"You are worried for Hans, I know. And Hans feels that. He reacts to it by crying." He held her hand now, rubbing his thumb comfortingly over the top. "It is not that he hates you. More than anyone, he loves you." Bringing his head forward slightly, he kissed the top of her hand, and then looked into those eyes that allowed one to read her like a book.

Amelia smiled softly at him, wrapping her hand tightly around his. "And that, Mr. Beilschmidt, is why I love you."

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**History Time! XD**

**The Reichstag Fire, an arson attack on the Reichstag building (the assembly location of the German Parliament) in Berlin, is often seen as a pivotal point in the establishment of Nazi Germany. At 21:25 (or 9:25 P.M.), the Berlin Fire Department received the call that the building was burning. By the time they arrived, the Chamber of Deputies was overcome with flames. This fire was used as evidence by the Nazis to say that the Communists were plotting against the German government. That would be because Marinus van der Lubbe, a young, Dutch council communist, was found inside the building. He and four Communist leaders were immediately arrested. And at Hitler's urging to the President, the government instituted mass arrests of Communists, including all of the Communist parliamentary delegates. This allowed the Nazis to go from the relative majority party to the actual majority party, permitting Hitler to consolidate power. **

**Marinus van der Lubbe claimed that he acted alone to protest the condition of the German working class, something that is debated by historians to this day. Some people suspect the arson may have been planned and ordered by the Nazis themselves in order to get the Communists out of their way. It's still unclear, really, as to who started this fire, though the Communist were blamed. Some food for thought is that Hitler had previously asked the President to dissolve the Reichstag and call for a new parliamentary election. The date for these elections was supposed to be 5 March 1933, and Hitler's aim was to acquire a majority for the Nazi party and eliminate opponents (Communists). The Reichstag fire allowed Hitler to accelerate the banning of the Communist Party, which he had planned to do through the Enabling Act anyway.**

**I've decided that the name of Amelia and Ludwig's son shall be Hans. It means 'God is gracious'. I don't know if Germans put that much emphasis on the name meaning, but my parents did for my brothers and I (my first name means 'victor' or 'honor' and my middle name means 'young child', meaning my parents want me to have a child's heart and be victorious in life but with honor), which is why I took into consideration name meanings. His middle name is Derrick (meaning people's ruler), which sounds a bit more American (because Amelia would have wanted him to have an 'American name' too) than Hans, though it is still German. So, the explanation for the name Hans Derrick is that his parents believe him to be a gift from God (I'm assuming both would have been Christian at the time…I don't really know how religion works for representatives of a country) and want him to grow up to be a leader of the people (though I also look at it as he will become the literal 'ruler' of the people due to what he represents). **

**Does anyone else think the Disney song from the Lion King 2 'One of Us' totally fits little Hans? **


	4. Rising Tensions

**Sorry if I butchered accents (especially Sweden's). I've said it before; I really can't do accents well. But the Australian accent is authentic, maybe. I know a guy from Australia, so I based it on the way he talks to be honest. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**16 August 1933**

Gilbert leaned back in the red-cushioned chair, the backside of his arm across his forehead that just so happened to be aching at the moment. He probably shouldn't have drunk so much beer yesterday, but the past is the past. Everything became the past so quickly too. What he had just thought or said was now the past. It was strange once you started to think about it, similar to that feeling one gets when they wonder why they were born or what brought them into existence, besides the obvious – their mother and father.

So fast, time passed so fast.

He knew that others thought of him as having lived a very long time, but he did not share this opinion. To himself, he thought, he was not a person that had lived a long life, but one who hadn't_ lived_ enough.

"Calm down, France!" The loud, haughty voice of an Englishman, more specifically, the epitome of all Englishmen and women – the personification of England – brought Gilbert back from his musings and to the present. And in the present, they, the members of the League of Nations, were having a meeting. He hated these meetings, but more so this year than the last. Everyone, it seemed, was ganging up on his bruder about Hitler and the Nazi party. Perhaps they did have reason to be angry with him – not going along with disarmament, the establishment of the Gestapo, massive book burnings, outlawing trade unions, banning all non-Nazi parties, boycotting Jewish businesses – but even with all that, they didn't need to be mad at Ludwig.

"I am calm, Angleterre." France sent a pointed look to England, _indignation_ at something evident in his facial expression. "I am merely expressing my concerns, as should the rest of you, over Allemagne's recent activities."

Norway scoffed, lifting his head a bit higher than normal and sending France a glare at the same time. "Why should I be concerned? I'm not the one that took advantage of Tyskland after the war ended."

"Francia, mi amigo," Spain placed a comforting hand on old friend's shoulder before he could react to the snide comment, "you have been on edge since Japan left earlier this year. That is what is causing these thoughts."

"Si," Honduras called from her seat across the table from France, "and it is making Paraguay anxious." She pushed back a few stray strands of her long, black hair, sending a snarky grin to her fellow Latino nation.

Paraguay, mouth open in protest, was unable to state that this was untrue due to the sudden outburst of Liberia, "If America were here, he'd –"

She was abruptly cut off by England, "Don't bring him up!" He had slammed his fists onto the wooden table, rising from his chair in the process. Already incensed over an argument he and France had shared in the morning, he was in the perfect position to unload his anger at the American male that was absent, again. "He's the one that suggested this bloody League of Nations! Then he doesn't join! First it was, 'I'm not your ally, just an associated power' and now this!"

"Maybe he decided he could no longer handle your incessant yelling," came the calm voice of India, a nice-looking young man (though much older than his appearance suggested). That was him, really, that was tired of England's 'incessant yelling'. His colonizer had obviously not learned the art of speaking softly, but firmly to get across points, rather than bellowing like a frog.

South Africa sighed, and fearing more yelling from England, only this time towards India, decided he would ask something – anything – before that happened. "When can we leave?"

"Are we done yet? I'm feeling homesick, yeah?" Australia ran a tan hand through his naturally spiky hair, following the lead of his fellow commonwealth. "No offense meant, mate," he looked towards Switzerland, who sent a nod back, "but Aussie – there's no better place for me."

Switzerland cleared his throat loudly, effectively bringing the attention to himself, issuing his straightening of the bowtie around his neck. "We have all had our chance to speak of recent developments and concerns," he eyed France pointedly at this, "but as the room now grows restless, it is no longer an appropriate time to discuss matters. And so, I adjourn this meeting of the League of Nations on this 16th day of August in the year 1933. Go in peace." He reached down for the briefcase sitting beside his chair – at the head of the table – grabbed it, and promptly marched out of the room.

Other nations followed suit, picking up their belongings and heading for home. Siam and Czechoslovakia had to side-step a man in a blue, pinstripe suit bursting into the room, nearly out of breath. The two shared a small shake of the head over the running man.

The running man stopped in front of Sweden and Finland, who were heading out together, currently discussing where they would be stopping for a mid-day meal. "Sverige," the man tilted his head slightly forwards, his eyes cast downwards in a form of respect and fear. Most people did fear the big, grizzly man, though anyone who really knew him would tell you he was the opposite, most of the time.

"Vad?"

At the short, straight to the point response, the man awkwardly looked up then back down. "Sverige, sir, Amerika is –" This had pricked the interest of several remaining nations, though Mexico started mumbling something about a 'gringo' as he continued on his way out, only having paused momentarily at the mention of his neighbor.

Sweden had picked up on this immediately and considering that America being in Switzerland was something that only he and Finland were supposed to know meant that it needed to be kept quiet. America, he knew, had been avoiding the others for quite some time, ever since the startup of the League of Nations, only being seen here and there. He was more focused on the Pacific at the moment; the whole matter with Japan and China had caused the younger nation a few sleepless nights. Sweden knew this, because he had spent those sleepless nights with him, watching the young man. He'd always felt a sense of protectiveness towards America. Finland and he had been the first to find him, after all. And in Sweden's opinion, that made America their son – sort of.

It had started in America's early years, him coming to stay with Sweden for short periods of time. The two would sit and talk about anything but politics; what Sweden's first thoughts were upon meeting America as a baby, how America was afraid of him, Sweden's first memory, and America's first memory. It was just the simple, light-hearted stuff, most of the time. There were times when they talked about the hard stuff, which brought up unpleasant memories. Out of all the moments the two had spent together, however, Sweden favored the ones in which America had slipped up and called him 'Dad' or referred to him as a father-figure in some way.

And he was, as far as Sweden was concerned, America's dad. Dad's had a duty to protect their sons. America was trying to keep his presence quiet, so, as America's dad, it was Sweden's job to make sure that happened.

"Not h're." He, with Finland beside him, walked out of the room, the pinstripe suit man trailing after them. The voices of several nations discussing what could be happening and how America was involved followed them out of the room.

* * *

Finland smiled, feeling happier than he had in a few months. It was always delightful to see America to him. America was the child he did not get to raise; not the son he never had – that was a cliché phrase – because he had him now. Well, "had him" was such a weird way to phrase it, really. It wasn't as if he had physically given birth to him. But America had been the one, after all those years, to visit him before he worked up the courage to make contact with the younger nation. It was a strange moment to look back on – America walking off the ship towards him, like a son returning home from war.

"How'd the meeting go," the American asked from his seat across from Finland, sipping on a cup of coffee. With cream and sugar, of course, which was the way Alfred normally liked it.

"F'ne."

The corner of America's mouth turned up, forming a quirky kind of smile at the short response. He took another sip of his coffee, then wrapped his hands firmly around the cup, letting the warmth sink into the palm of his hands. "How did Germany look?"

Finland set down his own coffee cup, sharing a glance with Sweden. He sighed, "I'm worried."

America stared intently at the man now. "Why?"

"Been acting str'nge."

"Yes," Finland nodded in agreement, "his recent activities have been strange. And his demeanor…he seems stiff."

"Stiff?" America chuckled. "Germany's always been a tightwad."

"St'ffer than usu'l," was Sweden's response as he adjusted his glasses. They kept falling forward; he needed to get that fixed, because it was becoming slightly annoying.

"Any new territories?"

"No, you'd know if he did."

"I guess so." America ran a hand through his already unruly hair, pushing his own glasses back up the bridge of his nose, Sweden noted (_they both needed to have their glasses fixed_). "But I've been so focused on the Pacific. I thought I might've missed something." He laughed it off, like the problems in the Pacific were just a new board game he'd become obsessed with.

"You need me t' talk t' Japan aga'n?"

"No thanks, _dad_." America playfully threw the familial term at Sweden, though his eyes conveyed that it was not necessarily meant in just a teasing manner. "I'm a big boy. I can handle my own battles." And quietly, underneath his breath, he added, "I need to."

"Of course, you are your own nation." Finland smiled at America, pushing aside his coffee cup that he had just finished off. "But Sverige and I will be here if you need us."

"I know."

* * *

Alfred knocked once, then twice. He thought about adding in a third knock for good measure, but thought it would seem too impatient. Not that he was denying being impatient, however. To his relief, however, the person that had heard his knocks was not slow and had quickly come to open the door.

It was Amelia, his sister. First, she stared at him with an open mouth, clearly in shock at his presence, followed by a bright smile paired with quickly form tears of joy. "Alfred!" She threw her arms around his neck, made easier by Alfred lowering himself so that she could reach.

"What are you doing here?" Amelia sat beside him on the couch, leaning forward so that she it was easier to see his face when he spoke. "Not that I'm complaining, but I thought you were avoiding Europe."

"I paid a visit to Finland and Sweden." Alfred's eyes traveled around the room, taking in the furniture. It was all arranged in a form that gave you the feel that the owner of the house was a very organized person, which meant that it had not been Amelia who picked out or arranged the furniture. "And I wanted to see you."

"Sweden and Finland?" She searched his eyes curiously. "Why?"

Alfred cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. "There was something I wanted to check." He couldn't tell he had been asking about Ludwig. Besides, it had been Germany he was asking about, really, and Germany was different from Ludwig. "You should have been at the inauguration." Quickly, his eyes met hers before he was forced to look away once again for fear that she would discover what he wanted to keep hidden.

"Of President Roosevelt?"

Alfred nodded.

"How is he?"

"Fantastic! He and Teddy are cousins, you know, but Franklin's nothing like Teddy."

"Teddy was quite a character."

"A little rough around the edges."

"But fantastic."

They shared a laugh, speaking these sentences so naturally that it would have been obvious to an outsider this was something they had conversed about before. Amelia and Alfred, they got along so well. Looking at the two, one would assume they were twins, albeit not identical. But in all honesty, this was not the case as they were really only cousins. While Alfred grew up under the tutelage of Arthur, Amelia had Alice, Arthur's cousin. It was a strange situation, but for all the matter to the both of them, they were siblings regardless.

"Do you want to see Hans?" Amelia asked, rising from the couch, evidently not going to take 'no' for an answer.

Alfred nodded, again, and off she went. He watched her leave the room, feeling guilt for the secrets he had decided to keep. Something was stirring in Europe, he could tell from the expressions on Finland and Sweden's faces earlier. They didn't want to tell him this outright, probably thinking he had enough trouble as it was right now in Asia. But Alfred knew that if something happened in Europe, no matter how long he tried to hold out, America would be dragged into it. Worse than being dragged into another war however, was the haunting thought that Amelia's child, Hans, had something to do with the rising tensions.

* * *

**History Time!**

**The following is the timeline I'm following, and the actual dates of the events that Gilbert (Spain and Alfred) mentioned occurred. February 28 - The Reichstag Fire Decree is passed, nullifying several German civil liberties; March 4 - Franklin Delano Roosevelt is inaugurated as President of the United States; March 20 - Germany's first concentration camp, Dachau, is completed; March 23 - The Reichstag passes the Enabling Act, making Adolf Hitler dictator of Germany; March 24 - Foreign Jews call for a boycott of imported German goods; April 1 - The recently elected Nazis start a one-day boycott of Jewish businesses; April 26 - The Gestapo is established in Germany; May 2 - Hitler outlaws trade unions; May 10 - Nazis start massive public book burnings; June 21 - All non-Nazi parties are banned in Germany.**

**And, yes, I do see Sweden and Finland as the two people America may occasionally refer to with parental terms. **


	5. Peppermint Pancakes

**September 21st, 1936**

"What was it you call this time of year? Alt-something…" Her voice trailed off as her eyes looked in wonder at the large chestnut tree that grew just beyond the den. The green, yellow, and red leaves swayed so delicately in the soft breeze of summer, the sun still shining happily upon them.

"Altweibersommer," he answered, his head resting on her shoulders, arms wrapped around her waist. He loved these moments the most, the ones in which it was just her and him – just the two of them, nothing and no one else.

"Right, and that means –"

"Indian summer," he finished her sentence. The scent of honey and peppermint wafted into his nostrils. "What have you been cooking?"

"Cinnamon honey buns and peppermint pancakes," was the short response as she moved one hand from atop his to brush lightly at his perfectly combed hair. The honey buns were something she and Alfred often had together, back in the States. Madeleine had sent the pancake recipe over last winter – it was a winter food – and Amelia, on a whim, decided she would test it out this morning. If the mess in the kitchen were any indication, she'd say she did pretty well.

Ludwig quirked an eyebrow at the idea of peppermint pancakes. It did not sound so very appealing, but he would try it. He had eaten much worse – Arthur's scones came to mind – after all. He moved his lips closer to her neck, and placed a delicate kiss just above the chain of the cross necklace he'd given to her.

At the same time as Ludwig was enjoying this rare, warm time with his wife, a voice called, "What's for breakfast?" It was followed by one pajama-clad Prussian waltzing into the room, running a hand through his uncombed hair. From his disheveled appearance, one could tell he had been up late the night before and just awoken minutes ago. The Prussian was quick to retreat from the room when his eyes lay upon the couple, shouting during flight, "Gross! Can't you two do that somewhere else? Seriously, Ludwig, I don't want to see my little brother making out!"

"Can't you have better timing?" Amelia sighed, turning around to face Ludwig with a grin on her face. "Remind me why your brother lives with us."

Ludwig returned the grin, "Because you invited him when he sniveled loudly in the streets during broad daylight that he would die if we abandoned him."

"I won't make that mistake again." She patted Ludwig's arm and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Time for breakfast. I'll set the table, you get Hans." With those words, she walked towards the doorway, though stopping for a moment to turn back to Ludwig and ask, "Do you think Gilbert will be eating after that?

Ludwig nodded and off she went.

"Hans," one knock on the door. "Hans, this is your vater," two knocks on the door. "Time to wake up, Hans," three knocks on the door. "Your mother is waiting," four knocks on the door, this time it was a bit harder. "Are you going to make me get the key?" The handle rattled as someone attempted to turn it. It was locked. "Hans," it continued to rattle as the voice grew louder and more urgent. "Hans! Open this door!" The voice was angry. "Hans! Hans! Are you okay?" And the voice was worried. "Answer me! Hans –" The door opened.

Hans stared up at his father's blue eyes, blinking his own blue eyes innocently. "I am sorry, vati. I could not hear you from the bathroom."

"You were in the bathroom?"

"Yes, brushing my teeth." He opened his mouth, making sure to lift his lips so that his father could get a good view of his newly cleaned pearly whites. "Were you worried, vati?"

At this particular question, Ludwig's cheeks turned red. He averted his eyes from the child, clenching and unclenching his hands while thinking of an appropriate response. "I," he paused, "was not worried. But your mother," yes, it would be believable for Amelia to be worried, "was."

"Mutti?"

"Ja."

"Did mutti send you to get me, vati?"

"Exactly."

"Oh." This 'oh' sounded much exaggerated, as if this were shocking news to the child. But it was not. Hans did not suppose his father remembered it, but he had already used this same excuse 23 times before – this made 24 times. His father was such a strange man. He was quite emotional, something he hide whenever possible.

Hans smiled to himself as he followed his father, staring up at the broad back of the greatest man he knew. He wanted to be like his father. First, he needed to convince his mother to give him a brother, one that was like his Uncle Gilbert, so that he could see how not to act. Then he'd grow bigger and get stronger, marry a woman like his mother, and become the greatest nation that ever lived. Perhaps his Uncle Alfred – he found him very likable – would help him become a great nation, because it wouldn't be right to receive help from his father.

Suddenly, Ludwig stopped in the middle of the hallway. Hans studied his back with curiosity. They were just outside the dining room. Why his father had stopped, he wondered.

"Put that fork down, buster!"

"No way, I'm starving!"

"Bums don't starve!"

"I'm not a bum!"

"Oh, really? What do you call yourself these days?"

"The awesome –"

"And nonexistent Prussia."

"You wound me."

Ludwig chuckled. Hans found that bizarre. His father seemed to like hearing his mother and Uncle argue. He didn't. The two obviously did not get along and he just couldn't see how that was funny. Letting a little sigh escape due to the exasperation he felt from the bad relationship between his mother and uncle, he followed Ludwig, who had just walked into the dining room.

Hans' eyes immediately made contact with his mother's, whose face brightened significantly at the site of him, he noticed. "Did you sleep well, my little Hansi?" She walked over to him to give him a light kiss on the forehead, ruffling his hair a bit before sitting down at the table.

"Yes, mutti," he replied, sitting in the seat beside her, as he always did.

"Pass me the pancakes, Amelia!"

Hans narrowed his eyes at his loud uncle. Why did he speak to his mother like that? And what gave him the right to demand things of her? Why didn't his vati say anything to him? It was a confusing situation.

With a pout on his lips, Hans shoved, none too delicately, the plate of pancakes sitting in front of him at his uncle. "Here, uncle." His aggressive tone did not go unnoticed by any of the three adults.

"Hans, what's the matter with you?" Amelia scolded him, with a small smile of amusement still on her face. "You woke up on the wrong side of the bed, mister."

His father coughed, clearing his throat, took a swallow of milk, and said, "Apologize to your uncle."

Hans clenched his fists slightly. How dare they scold him! And his mother – he was defending her! "I will not."

"Hans!"

"Do you have a problem with your awesome uncle, Hansi? Did I forget a promise again?"

"Don't call me Hansi. Only mutti can call me that."

Gilbert blinked in confusion. He honestly didn't understand why Hans was suddenly so angry at him and acting this way. "But I've called you that since you were a baby."

"Stop being mean to my mutti!"

"Vat?"

"If you continue to be unkind to mutti, I will…I will have the SS execute you!"

"Hans Derrick Bielschmidt!" Amelia grabbed hold of his arm, forcing him to turn his head towards her.

Hans frowned. Why was she upset? Couldn't she see he was defending her? "Yes, mutti?"

"Do not say those kinds of things!" Amelia placed her arms around Hans' shoulders, pulling his face into her chest. Her innocent little child, she wondered how he could speak of execution so easily. "And Gilbert does not bully me, Hansi, we're only joking with each other. So," she pulled his head back from her, putting a hand underneath his chin so that he was not able to look away, "don't be angry anymore. Besides, I could kick Gilbert's sorry little butt in two minutes if he were messing with me!"

"He is not being mean to you?"

"Of course not!"

"…Forgive me, uncle," Hans bowed his head, his cheeks turning red at the embarrassment he now felt over his outburst. No one was saying anything, so he slowly opened one eyelid to peek up at the faces of the adults. All three were smiling at him. They obviously found what had just occurred to be a funny situation. With a pout, Hans lifted his head back up and stuffed a piece of pancake into his mouth, which he immediately spat out. "Ew! Mutti, zis is disgusting!"

"What?" Amelia looked upset, the corners of her mouth drooping downwards. "It…doesn't taste good…"

Hans clenched his left fist, looked to his father and Uncle for encouragement, and forced another bite of the horrible pancake down his throat. "I-I mean…delicious! This is delicious, mutti!" At this, Amelia's face brightened instantly.

The three males suffered through the meal while she watched them all happily, only drinking coffee. And so ended a fall morning in the Beilschmidt household.

* * *

**I wanted this to be a semi-sweet chapter prior to all the nitty-gritty stuff. So, yes, it's short and quite late, but I've been writing so many academic papers lately that I really did not have the time to focus on fanfiction. Still writing those academic papers, by the way, but I'll preserve for my few fans.  
**

**History Time! These are important events that happened prior to this chapter. **

**1933 October 19 - Germany leaves the League of Nations.**

**1934 January 26 - Germany and Poland sign the 10 year German-Polish Non-Aggression Pact; March 1 - Japan renames Manchuria Manchukuo; March 20 - All German police forces come under the command of Heinrich Himmler; June 30 - The Night of Long Knives occurs, in which Germany executes many ranking leaders of the Sturmabteilung (SA); July 20 - The SS became an independent organization of the Nazi Party, reporting directly to Adolf Hitler; August 2 - Adolf Hitler becomes Führer of Germany, becoming Head of State as well as Chancellor; September - The Soviet Union joins the League of Nations; December 5 - The Abyssinia Crisis occurs, in which Italian and Ethiopian troops exchange fire; December 29 - Japan renounces the Washington Naval Treaty and the London Naval Treaty.**

**1935 January 7 - The League of Nations approves the results of the Saar plebiscite, which allows Saar to be incorporated into German borders; June 18 - The Anglo-German Naval Agreement is signed by Germany and the United Kingdom to limit the size of their navies; October 2 - Italy invades Ethiopia, beginning the Second Italo–Abyssinian War.**

**1936 March 7 - In violation of the Treaty of Versailles, Germany reoccupies the Rhineland; May 5 - Italian forces occupy Addis Ababa in East Africa; May 7 - Italy annexes Ethiopia; May 9 - Chiang Kaishek proclaimed that Japan was waging war in China without a declaration of war; July 18 - The Spanish Civil War begins when nationalist forces led by Francisco Franco rise against the current republican government.**


End file.
